Spread Out Against the Sky
by V.M. Bell
Summary: To pretend that such a thing as privacy existed was to trespass upon the fraternity that characterized the Marauders as something different, something special.  Remus & Sirius.


**Spread Out Against the Sky**

The last thing Remus expected as he huddled over his books on the night before his Transfiguration N.E.W.T. was to be accosted and blindfolded. He had not seen the intruder approaching, but as the heavy cloth fell over his eyes, he found that he could not even react -- quite literally. He was apparently frozen in place.

A hand fell upon his inert shoulder. "Sorry, mate, but it had to be done." Had Remus still been in full possession of his speech and movement, he would no doubt have rolled his eyes and chastised his friend accordingly. But, as it was, he was in a rather difficult situation. "Look, the blindfold stays, but I will unfreeze you, all right? Just don't make a fuss, and keep your voice down."

Upon the muttering of the counterjinx, Remus's hands immediately flew to the back of his head. There, they desperately sought the knot that held the blindfold together, pausing at the sound of Sirius's poorly stifled laughter. "May I ask what you find so funny about all of this?" he sighed.

"The blindfold -- it's _magic_, Remus. You can't untie it."

"Oh, great. Sirius, you do know that, one, we are in the library; two, we have an exam tomorrow; and three, curfew is in thirty minutes?"

"Bugger your revision. Come along."

"Take this blindfold off me."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Remus threw back his head in exasperation, and Sirius pulled his recalcitrant friend to his feet. "But -- my books."

"You worry too much. Do you honestly think that I would have left your precious notes here?"

"You're exactly the sort that would get a good laugh out of it," Remus muttered.

"I am your friend, remember?"

Though Remus could not see anything, could not sense even a trace of the surrounding candlelight, he felt the floorboards groan slightly, and Sirius -- Remus simply knew that Sirius was perilously close to him. "Yes, I remember," he replied.

Then there was the shuffling of parchment; Remus could only hope that Sirius was treating his notes with the care they deserved.

"Now, follow me, please."

"If you've already forgotten, I can't very well see."

"Damn. I had forgotten about that, actually. Hold my hand, then."

It was certainly not the first time their hands -- or, for that matter, their bodies -- had touched, but Remus paused before daring to slip his fingers into the steady grasp of his companion's. He rehearsed the excuses in his mind again, _I fell and Sirius was helping me up_ still being his favorite, because there was always something subversive in the way their hands met and curved around one another -- subversive because Hogwarts had only ever known them to be Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, comrades of Gryffindor and James Potter's best friends, because they knew themselves to be so much more.

"Are you sure Madam Pince isn't watching?"

"Madam Pince is probably wiping her bloody spectacles clean as we speak. Come on, Remus. She'll catch us here if we don't leave now."

The sightless dash through the library as bookshelves whistled past his ears with only his trust in Sirius leading the way -- Remus didn't think that he had ever done anything so rebellious in his life, and on the night before an exam! As they skidded to a stop outside the library, separated, and Sirius set himself to rummaging through something, Remus briefly entertained the notion of putting an end to the madness now. They had not gone far -- surely, he could appeal to Sirius's better nature and convince him to perhaps undertake this adventure at a later date.

Remus raised no further protests.

However, this did not stop him from asking questions when he thought them appropriate, such as when Sirius threw a light swath of material over their heads. "Um, Sirius, is this James's Invisibility Cloak?"

"Pipe down, would you? And walk faster."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Yes, it belongs to darling James."

"Did he let you use it?"

"James is 'studying' with Evans right now."

"Ah, so I suspect that he is paying little attention to the whereabouts of his friends and his precious Invisibility Cloak?"

"You know, Dumbledore could probably dance naked in front of him right now and he wouldn't notice."

"I don't recognize this route. Sirius, we are we going?"

"Remus, if you insist on being so thick, you'll score an Acceptable on tomorrow's exam -- and what a tragedy that would be. Where we're going is a surprise, ruining the surprise…well, that would just be awful, wouldn't it?"

"You irritate me sometimes, Sirius."

"Likewise, dear friend."

Remus ran a hand through his hair. "Is it anywhere I've been before, then? Can you at least answer that question?"

The answer should be yes -- after all, their combined efforts and daring ensured that four seventeen year-old boys now knew more about the castle than any student ought to. More importantly, however, each of them had promised that any new knowledge that might be discovered must be shared with the group as a whole. As far as breaking curfew and mischief making were concerned, there was to be no secrecy, and to pretend that such a thing as privacy existed was to trespass upon the fraternity that characterized the Marauders as something different, something special.

"No," Sirius said after some time.

Remus decided to not pursue the matter, and their conversation ceased. They continued in silence, listening only to the reluctant echo of their footsteps against the castle. Within a few minutes, they began to ascend a set of steep stairs. The surrounding air was oddly cold for that time of year. Saturated with dust and history, it might be as old as the castle itself, Remus thought. It was not until he heard the grinding of stone and the rush of wind above him that he realized Sirius had led him out of Hogwarts.

In one motion, Sirius swept the Invisibility Cloak from their heads. Remus almost cried aloud to feel the outside chill moving against his skin. "Where are we?" he ventured to ask.

"It'd be best if I took the blindfold off here," Sirius mused. "Yes, it would be safest for you."

"We're not -- we're not anywhere dangerous, are we?"

The weight against his eyes disappeared, but Remus kept them tightly clenched.

"Now, that would depend on how you define 'dangerous,' wouldn't it?"

"Can I look?"

"Just not down."

Naturally, down was the first place Remus looks when he peaked out from one eye, and with the slightest of gasps, he was, for the first time all evening, truly thankful for Sirius's presence. The hand Remus was holding once again was the last thing, he realized, that might prevent him from falling -- they were standing upon the highest point of the castle, their toes gripping the sharp incline of the tower as they balanced their weight against the attraction of the undefined black beneath them.

"Merlin, Sirius," Remus breathed. "How did we -- how did we get here?"

"Found it one day last year -- entirely by accident, mind. I must have taken a wrong turn at some point, and suddenly, there I was, a sixth-year on the roof of Hogwarts, freezing my arse off."

"Why didn't you tell us about this?"

Sirius shrugged. "Well, it hasn't got any real benefits, has it? It doesn't lead to the Honeydukes cellar, the Slytherin torture chambers -- erm, common room."

"Plenty of what we've discovered haven't brought any real benefits, but they've all been drawn on the map, haven't they?"

Remus and Sirius exchanged glances, and it was the latter that first looked away. "I wanted you to see it first."

"On the night before an exam, you mean?" Remus prompted, leaning forward and unsuccessfully suppressing a smile.

Sirius smirked. "When better to do it?"

Cold sweat drew their hands into a yet tighter embrace, and Remus, becoming more acclimated to the heights and their winds by the second, allowed himself to crane his neck forward.

Dotted with glowing windows, Hogwarts rose from the ground like a wave; they were perched upon its soaring crest. By the slivered moon, he noted the castle's courtyards, where he and his friends often rested between classes, and beyond the castle itself, labyrinthine paths circled the grounds. There were the paths that had been laid out for hundreds of years, walked upon by the founders themselves while they surveyed their handiwork, walked upon now by frantic students trying to avoid tardiness to class, but the paths that Remus now saw were less of a physical construct than the sudden flowering of memories. These grounds had been his home, the Marauders' home. What a strange and funny feature of life, that certain things can only be better appreciated when the perspective from which it is viewed changes.

"The roof flattens right down there," Sirius told him, pointing to a ledge jutting outward some feet below. "Would you, erm -- would you be interested in sitting there a while? Or do you have to continue with your diligent Transfiguration revision?" he added with a quirk of his eyebrows.

Crouching close to the roof and making use of all hands and legs available, they descended to the ledge, where the shingles were more welcoming. Remus wrapped his arms around his legs. He rested his chin upon his knees, and his eyes fell to the horizon, where the stars kissed their reflections in the lake in perfect parallel.

He looked back at Sirius, whose limbs were sprawled upon the ledge. "It's a beautiful view."

The black-haired boy did not verbally reply, but a small smile captured his slack mouth. It was not a smile of arrogance, of satisfaction, only humility that his offering had been accepted and adored. Likewise, Remus did not attempt to express his gratitude in words alone -- the mere act of resting his head upon Sirius's shoulder was enough, he thought.


End file.
